


Who Says You Can't Go Home

by sullacat



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-04
Updated: 2011-06-04
Packaged: 2017-10-20 02:36:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/207872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sullacat/pseuds/sullacat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Suddenly a teenager again, Jim Kirk finds himself back on the farm in Riverside. This time, he's not alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who Says You Can't Go Home

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [trekreversebang](http://trekreversebang.livejournal.com/) 2011\. So much thanks to my artist, Barbie_Kim's whose [gorgeous picture](http://barbie-kim.livejournal.com/1696.html) inspired this story. I hope I did it justice. ♥
> 
> As always, thanks to [altilis](http://archiveofourown.org/users/altilis/pseuds/altilis) for helping my with all manner of Spock/Vulcan questions and some science, too, and my little writer's circle, that listened to me when I needed someone to bounce ideas off.
> 
> **Story contains sexual activity between seventeen year olds.**

“ _Valhthealh 'hh 'ie iudaiht._ ” Jim Kirk looked up and into a flash of red light, and then, darkness...

* * *

There was beeping.

Jim opened his eyes slowly. He wasn't sure where he was, but it sure as hell wasn't his bedroom. _Fuck_ , he thought, the sterile smell of antiseptics telling him that he was in some sort of deep trouble. _What the fuck had happened?_ he wondered, trying to look around the incredibly white room without moving his head or attracting attention.

Too late. A woman in white standing nearby walked over to him, and began tapping at a console over his bed. “Good afternoon,” she said, her eyes polite and curious as he felt the bed begin to hum.

So Jim Kirk did what he did best - he smiled back. “Hey,” he said, sliding to sit up. “Did I get hurt somewhere?” he asked, giving her his best 'I'm friendly' look.

She nodded her head, and Jim's stomach dropped. He was about to ask her more, but she turned and called out around the corner, “He's awake.”

Jim leaned back, a side glance to look for his pants and the nearest exit when an older man in blue uniform hurried over, something like relief in his eyes. He stared at Jim for a while, and just when it looked like he wasn't going to say anything, he began to talk. “Tell me what you remember.”

“First,” Jim said, his voice cracking and low, “tell me where I am. What happened to me?” He looked around, certain now that this was some sort of hospital. “Was I in an accident?” The man and woman looked at each other. “Did someone get hurt?” he asked, a little worried now. _Fuck_ , if someone got hurt, if it was his fault, Jim would never hear the end of it.

“Look, Jim, I'm gonna tell you-”

“How do you know my name?” he asked, actively looking for an exit now. Didn't feel like anything was broken, but they had his name. Shit.

The man looked over at the nurse once more, who nodded and left the area. He pulled a chair over to Jim's bedside, and held out a medical scanner. “I'm gonna explain everything best I can,” he said, as he began scanning Jim's head. “Jim, do you know who I am?”

Jim pulled back instinctively, then looked into the guy's eyes. They looked worried. “What's going on? Where am I?”

The man's face dropped, just a fraction, but enough for Jim to wonder. “My name's Leonard McCoy. I'm your doctor, and your friend.” He dropped the scanner, looking Jim straight in the eye. “You're on board the Federation starship _Enterprise_.”

There was a momentary pause. “Bullshit,” Jim said under his breath.

“Wish to God I was, Jim,” said McCoy, pointing out the readings above the biobed. “You are Jim Kirk, captain of the _Enterprise_. You and the first officer were hit by some sort of Romulan laser beam and somehow both de-aged to approximately sixteen or seventeen years old.”

Jim's head was spinning. This was too much information. “Wait,” he said, sitting up. The date on the screen read 2263.30... “Wait,” he repeated. “That says 2263."

“Yeah,” McCoy repeated, running his tricorder down Jim's torso.

“That means I'm thirty,” he answered, his voice almost challenging.

“Just turned,” McCoy replied. “Was a hell of a party,” he added with a wry smile. “Look, Jim, hopefully this won't last too long. We got our top guys on board working on it, and we're heading back to Earth to get our engines checked out. We'll figure out how to get you back to normal-”

“Something wrong with the engines?” Jim asked, worried all of a sudden.

“Yeah, but that's nothing for you to worry on right now. You just need to hang tight and let us take care of you.” Jim must have looked at him with daggers in his eyes, because McCoy began to chuckle low again. “I know, as if you could ever do that. I'm gonna -”

Then his communicator went off. “ _Doctor McCoy, Commander Spock is awake_.”

“Thank you, Chapel.” McCoy gave Jim one more long glance, then stood. “Come on, Jim, might as well come with me.” The two of them rounded the corner from the private biobeds to the public area, and Jim could see that it did look like one of those starship medical bays, but fancier than he'd ever seen before. “Now, ordinarily I wouldn't tell someone in your condition too much about your missing memories, hoping they would come back on their own,” McCoy said as they headed to another private area. “But we're at war right now, and you were injured in battle. There just isn't time for you to recuperate properly, and besides,” he smiled balefully, “knowing you, you'd just go find out on your own., get your ass in trouble. Don’t want you running off or trying to escape.” He gave Jim a sad look, shaking his head. “Too dangerous for you to not know.”

They entered the private area where another patient was being examined. From where he was standing, Jim could see that it was another teenager, but Vulcan. He gave the boy a nod of his head, watching as Vulcan glanced at him from head to toe, as if taking in every detail.

He also looked just as suspicious as Jim felt.

Jim stood back and listened as McCoy went through the whole explanation again. Spock, the Vulcan kid, didn't seem to have any questions, just accepted what McCoy said as fact.

McCoy's communicator went off. “I'll be right back,” he said, stepping out of the room, leaving the two boys alone.

“You believe any of this shit?” Jim asked, stepping closer to Spock's bed.

Spock glanced at him, then looked around the room. “I admit, the scenario seems unlikely,” he said in a cool, even voice. “However, I cannot ascertain any reason for the doctor to fabricate such an elaborate hoax.”

“How about maybe he's an asshole, and playing some trick on us?” But Spock didn't seem to be having any of it, so Jim didn't say anything else until McCoy returned.

“Okay, that was Starfleet HQ,” he told them both. “They want the ship back at space dock as soon as possible, and they've come up with a plan for you two. You're going home to Iowa,” he told Jim. “Both of you gonna stay with Jim's mother, under Starfleet protection, until we get this situation all straightened out.”

Fucking Iowa. “My mom doesn't live there. She's stationed on the _Hood_.”

“She lives there now,” McCoy replied. “Given the situation, she is probably the best person right now to take care of you. You can't stay here, Jim. It’s too dangerous, and... fuck.” Now Jim was worried, because for the first time in all this mess, McCoy looked scared. “Shit, I'm sorry, shouldn't say that in front of you. But there are people who are looking for you two. Romulans, at any rate. We gotta get you away from here. Fleet thinks you can be best protected back on Earth.”

“Excuse me,” Spock began, finally speaking. “I understand the need for security protocols to be put into place. However, why am I not being sent to Vulcan? I am currently preparing for exams -” then Spock stopped, looked down, as if realizing that he had somehow taken another path. “I would prefer to stay with my parents, if that were possible. Vulcan security is beyond reproach-”

Something in McCoy's face dropped. He picked up his communicator, and called the nurse into the room. “Jim, would you excuse us a moment?” He motioned to Spock to follow him, murmured something to the blonde woman, and led Spock into an office, the door sliding closed behind them.

“Doctor McCoy wants me to take you to your room,” the nurse told him, handing Jim a fresh change of clothing.

Jim immediately perked up, his eyes trailing down her body. “Lucky me.”

The corners of her mouth tilted upward. “Somehow, its nice to see that's still the same.”

 

Back in the captain's quarters, 'his' room, things began to make more sense to Jim. The whole situation still seemed unbelievable, but... this felt like a room he'd have. Jim was able to rummage though some drawers, find some old letters and mementos, some old memories, some other things that hadn't happened to him yet, people he hadn't yet met.

Not much from his life on Earth, Jim noticed, wondering if it was because nothing ever happened in Iowa, or if it all just didn't fucking matter in the end.

Organized schooling hadn't played a large part in Jim's life in a long time, but he could learn anything he set his mind to, and his latest obsession had been computer programming. Jim knew enough about finding a backdoor into a networked system to get himself in trouble.

But apparently the future him knew some shit too, because all his personal logs were locked tighter than a frog's ass. Luckily the system network did supply enough public records for him to piece together the fragments of his future with little effort, getting the where and whens of Jim Kirk, if not the 'why'.

>   
> James Tiberius Kirk, born 2233.03 on shuttle 37 out of the USS Kelvin, following the first battle of the _Narada_ ; parents George and Winona Kirk of Riverside, Iowa.  
> Attended Starfleet Academy (2255-2258)  
> Graduated: 2258  
> Current position: Captain of USS _Enterprise_ ;  
> 

Not much was mentioned of Jim's juvenile criminal records, but he did find out about the war with some Romulans, one in particular named Patelok, who had targeted Jim and Spock following the death of Nero, a renegade from two hundred years in the future who destroyed the planet Vulcan.

Destruction of Vulcan... _shit_. That's what McCoy wanted to tell Spock about. Damn, Jim wondered how he would have felt, to wake up and realize that his planet, his home was gone. Jim had no love for Riverside, but he hadn't seen much else of the world.

Better or worse, that was home, until something better came along.

 

* * *

Now that he was back, though, Jim did not like this one bit.

Being in space had been amazing. Jim still didn’t understand the whole ‘youngest captain in Starfleet history’ thing, since he had absolutely no desire to join any sort of organization like that, but fuck if space wasn’t the coolest shit he’d ever seen. In the few days it took to get back to Earth he’d been allowed to look around the ship, probably to see if anything jarred his memories. He explored Engineering, Stellar Cartography, Operations (which was strangely interesting, seeing how a ship was organized) and Sickbay, where he asked McCoy a thousand and one questions. The doctor never seemed to get too tired to answer him, but it made Jim feel bad when he saw 'that look' on McCoy’s face, half disappointed and half sad.

But Jim stopped talking once they got off the shuttle in Iowa.

Something must have shown on his face because McCoy (“You can call me Leonard, if you want”) sighed one of those deep, long-suffering sighs of his. “It's temporary, Jim. We're gonna fix this, I promise.”

"...'s not that," he murmured, looking over the window. Even if McCoy and the _Enterprise_ hadn't shown him pretty damn good proof that thirteen years had gone by, looking around good old Riverside did. New buildings, new stores, the cars all looked futuristic. And yet... "I hate this place."

The road to his house was paved now, and that more than anything unsettled Jim – at least, until he saw a female figure waiting for them on the front porch. “Hello, ma’am,” McCoy said, taking a few steps ahead of the others. “Brought you some company.”

“I see that,” Winona said, looking down at Jim, then Spock, and back at Jim again. She looked older than Jim remembered seeing her last year, strands of gray striping her short blonde hair.“Doctor McCoy says you’re pretty healthy, aside from the being a teenager again.” She reached out to hug him, and Jim stiffened in her arms.

If it bothered her, she didn’t show it. “Good to see you again, Jimmy. And Commander, its been a while,” she told him, reaching out to touch Spock's shoulder. “You might not remember, but we met in San Francisco a few years ago.”

Spock looked up at her, then nodded. “If I might ask,” he said in that low, cool voice of his, “what are the security arrangements here?” Jim had to admit, for two kids being hunted by some Romulan assassins, this old farm didn't look all that secure.

“The whole planet's under tight security,” McCoy told them, as Winona led them all inside. “As for Riverside, we've got additional security here. The idea is for you, and everyone else, not to see them. Don't want to advertise that you're here, you know.” Spock seemed to accept this as an answer, because he didn't say anything else for a while.

Then again, neither did Jim. The house was so damn familiar – hell, last thing he remembered before waking up in Sickbay a few days ago was sneaking inside and passing out on his bed. But this wasn't the house he remembered. The smell of his great aunt Stella, that stale tang of her cigarettes was gone, replaced with some warmer furniture, a new rug on the floor, fresh paint on the walls.

Jim saw some pictures on the mantle, seeing some unfamiliar children. “Those are Sam's boys,” Winona told him, as she stepped behind him. “This is us,” she added, picking up a frame on the table and handing it to him.

Jim stated at the photograph. It looked like him, but older, and... smiling at someone off-camera, his arm looped casually around Winona's shoulder. There was a gold medal on his lapel. “Two years ago, you were being honored for negotiating a peace treaty between these warring planets.” She touched his arm. “So proud of you, Jimmy.”

“Guess things are better between us,” he said in a flat voice. Every time he believed her, and let her into his heart, she left him, and after that last time, he vowed to not let that happen again.

Her eyes flashed, something pained. “We made our peace with each other. I think you understood, after a while.” But Jim didn't look like he believed her much. “Come on, I'll show you boys to your rooms.”

 

McCoy stayed for dinner, making polite small talk with Winona, trying to keep the conversation light, but after dinner he made his excuses and left, promising to return in a few days, or when he had some information. Jim was surprised to be sad to see him go, if only because the gruff doctor appeared to really care about how he was handling all of this, and he seemed to be someone that Spock trusted as well.

 

Later that night, Jim lay in his bed, looking around at his room. It felt like he'd been here just yesterday, listening to crazy Stella drink and yell at people that weren't there anymore, just a warm body they'd stuck here to watch him after his mom left for her final tour. 'Just one more,' Winona told him before she left. Jim had hoped that her coming back after Tarsus would be permanent, but no, she'd made sure he was safe, physically healthy, saw a counselor, and then she was off again, fostering Jim out to one of her relatives, an older woman who was happy for the place to live, but not so happy about having to watch an increasingly delinquent teenager.

And now he was back. But this wasn't his room anymore. Felt too clean, too un-lived in. Jim had tossed his clothes on the floor, a slightly rebellious action but that really did nothing to alleviate the fact that he felt more at home those three days on the _Enterprise_ than he did now, in the room he'd lived in most of his life.

There were some advantages to this house, though... about an hour after his mom went to bed, Jim got dressed, carried his shoes with him and padded into Spock's room, which had been Sam's room, and the one with the best escape route. He opened the window, wincing as it creaked but Spock did not seem to wake, so Jim crawled out onto the landing, hung off the first floor eave and landed with a soft thud on the ground. Lacing up his shoes, he looked around, and began walking.

Jim had just gotten to the barn when he heard a noise behind him. Turning his head, he saw Spock pulling on a sweater, and jogging to catch up to him, and for the first time since he'd landed here in Iowa, Jim smiled. They hadn't spent too much time together while on board, each boy finding their own areas of interest to learn about. But now, they were stuck with each other for company.

He expected Spock to ask him 'why' or 'where', but the Vulcan just followed, seeming to trust that Jim had a destination in mind that would be acceptable to both of them. Neither boy spoke until they reached the wheat fields. “So... this is a farm.”

“We have farms on Vulcan.” Spock stopped speaking, as if realizing the inaccuracy of that statement, given the current reality, but neither boy said anything. “We do not have animals on our farms, however,” he added, noting the chicken coop off to the side.

“That's a recent addition,” Jim noted. Apparently Winona liked fresh eggs. “We don't kill them or anything,” Jim said, as they passed quietly.

“There was a time, in our history, when animals were used as beasts of burden. That time has long since passed,” he added, touching a tall shaft of wheat as they passed through it.

It was autumn in Iowa, a cool evening by Jim's standards, but Spock seemed chilled. “You okay?”

“I am adequate,” Spock replied, eyes up and staring at the stars above them. Judging from the intensity of his searching, and the unsatisfied look on his face, Jim suspected he knew what Spock was looking for... and that he wouldn't find it.

“I guess someone is renting these fields,” Jim said, as they passed some corn growing tall, almost ready to be harvested. “When I was here, it was just weeds.” A few crops that grew wild on their own. “No one gave a shit to keep it up.”

They walked another half mile or so and eventually came to the edge of a large pond. “Wanna go for a dip?” asked Jim, toeing off his shoes.

Something about Spock's eyes seemed to look longing at the water. “Perhaps during the day, when its a bit warmer.”

Shit, he forgot. “We'll do that then,” he told Spock, settling down on the ground. “Have you heard from your father?”

“I received a communique before we left the _Enterprise_. He asked me to be patient and assist Doctor McCoy and everyone else who is working to remedy our situation.”

Jim tossed a pebble out into the water. It sounded like something a dad would say, he thought, batting away the wistful feeling inside.

Spock's voice brought him out of that train of thought. “Might I ask you a question?”

“Go for it,” Jim said, throwing another pebble, listening for the satisfying 'plunk' sound.

“There is a great animosity between you and your mother.”

“You never fought with your parents?”

“I have seen and experienced that particular conflict,” Spock answered, finding a pebble and handing it to Jim. Jim looked at the rock, then up at Spock. “I was merely curious as to the circumstances of your disagreement.”

“She's spent my entire childhood away from me than with me,” he said, tossing Spock's pebble particularly hard. “She was a mother when she wanted to be.”

“And you resented this?”

“Guess so.” Jim waited for a mild chastisement, or more questions, but nothing. Spock sat there and looked out at the water, an occasional glance up at the sky. “C'mon,” Jim told him, standing up. “This place is better in the daylight.”

 

It wasn't exactly house arrest, but it was Riverside. For the next few days, Jim and Spock spent time around the farm, walking around, investigating the fields and the barns. They walked into town and looked around, Jim surprised by how many physical things had changed – the buildings and restaurants, yet the people all seemed the same. Small town, middle America.

Sometimes at night Jim would pad into Spock's room, and they would wander the farm by moonlight. Spock was a remarkably silent companion, and Jim was okay with that.

But by and large it was just as boring at Jim remembered. When they weren't exploring or walking, Spock preferred to spend his free time reading. One afternoon they were sitting outside under a tree, waiting for Winona to return from town with some groceries when Jim looked over and saw Spock tracing a pattern on a leaf. “What are you doing?” he asked, moving over closer to Spock. “Something on your mind?”

“Circuits,” Spock answered, almost absently before looking up at Jim.

“What sort,” Jim asked, resting a hand on Spock's shoulder as he leaned over to study the leaf.

“If this is some attempt at small talk, it is not necessary.” Spock's eyes were back on his leaf, but he was paying attention to Jim now, as well.

“It's not small talk. Well, maybe not all small talk,” he grinned,“but you got me genuinely curious now.” Spock looked over, a slightly bemused look on his face. “Try me,” Jim added.

Spock handed the leaf to Jim. “What does this look like to you?”

“Two caterpillars fucking. What does it look like to you?” Spock gave him a slight eye roll, and turned away, when Jim took the leaf again, peering at it. “Oh, “he said. “You mean like an inductor.”

Spock looked genuinely surprised at that. “I was not aware you had studied AC systems.”

“Haven't really,” Jim told him. “Nothin' formal, I mean. You can learn a lot by reading, and if there's one thing that scientists love to do, its publish.” Jim stumbled upon geomagnetically induced currents while reading up on what happened to his father up in space, and wasn't too much of a leap to get to from that to inductance. “So, you studied this, right? Can I ask you a question?” Jim asked.

Spock seemed surprised, in that cool way of his, and nodded.

“Just something I was working on. Hey, I wonder...” Jim sat up and walked into the barn, motioning for Spock to follow him. Once inside, he began climbing a ladder nailed to the side wall, crawling onto the loft build high in the barn. He dug around the back, and came back with a piece of circuit board. “See that cycle over there?” Jim pointed at a motorbike in pieces over in the corner of the barn. “I've been trying to modify it, keep the internal combustion mechanics working while having an alternative power supply available. I've got the mechanical parts working. But I could never get the power supply on this to work.”

Spock looked down at it, considering Jim's words. The circuitry had been routed in an unusual fashion. “That's not the typical methodology for drawing that sort of additional electrical current to-” he looked over, around the barn, back down at the bike, studying it.

“But would it work?” Jim asked, leaning back, chewing on a piece of hay.

Spock turned back to Jim, who could see the curiosity in Spock's eyes. “That would depend on more than one factor.” They spent the rest of the afternoon discussing integrated circuitry. Spock stopped being surprised every time Jim understood a concept, and as they talked, they both contributed ideas, made suggestions, and listened. “Of course, we are both thirteen years behind the most current data in the field,” Spock reminded him, a bit ruefully.

“So this could all be for nothing,” Jim chuckled a little, handing the board back to Spock.

“Learning is never nothing, Jim,” Spock answered smugly, arching an eyebrow in a now familiar manner. But looking back, Jim would point to that conversation as the one that changed everything.

 

The next afternoon was a hot day, and it seemed to affect everyone in the house. Spock was rather pleased at the warmer temperature but Winona and Jim weren't in as good a mood as the Vulcan. It culminated when she asked Jim to pick up the lunch dishes, and he ignored her. “I'll do it later.”

“You'll do it now,” she told him, her face set into something that looked very similar to his.

“I'll do it when I feel like it,” Jim bit back, pushing past her and storming outside into the front porch. There was really no reason for him to be mad at her, but fuck, there were times when she acted like she was really his mother, and it pissed him off.

He looked up to see Spock behind him, watching. “Don't,” Jim said, then watched as Spock shook his head, and began walking past him off the porch. _Fuck..._

Of course Jim followed, how could he not – and wasn't all that surprised when they ended up at the swimming hole. Both boys undressed, Spock folding his clothing neatly and tucking them safely out of the way before he waded into the water. Jim's pants landed where he dropped them, and after toeing the water to check its temperature, he dove in, shaking the water out of his head as he emerged.

Jim was surprised to find out that Spock was such a strong swimmer. Jim reached out and pulled Spock's leg, tugging him underwater, and paddling backward as they began splashing at each other. Then they raced across the pond, both of them slightly out of breath as they floated back toward the shore.

Laying on the ground, Jim was shaking the water out of his hair when he heard Spock finally speak. “You should not be so angry with your mother.”

Jim wasn't surprised to hear this. “You don’t understand,” he answered quietly, laying back on his t-shirt, closing his eyes and feeling the sun hit him.

“That is inconsequential.” It helped that Spock's tone wasn't accusatory, or angry. It was just... Spock. “She is your mother, she deserves your respect.” When Jim didn't respond to that, the Vulcan stood. “She is here. I would forgive much to have my mother here.” There was a pause, then, “I imagine she was disappointed with my decision to leave Vulcan and pursue a career with Starfleet. I hope that I did not disappoint her in the end.”

This was the first Spock had said about his mother's death, and Jim didn't want to take any steps backward. Walking back, they were both quiet, Jim more tired that he'd been in a long time. Maybe that's what had been missing here, some physical exertion. Spock had seen that, and given it to him. Falling asleep that evening, Jim reminded himself to try and do something nice for Spock tomorrow.

And maybe his mother, too.

* * *

The next afternoon, McCoy dropped by for a visit. Jim was surprised by how glad he was to see the gruff older man, though he could have done without the hand messing up his hair, or being called a kid again. McCoy and Spock went for a walk, and Jim watched until they turned the corner, a bit of a strange feeling in his stomach. He knew that Spock liked McCoy, trusted him, and he probably had information from Spock's family, or just wanted to see how Spock was doing with all this.

But still... Jim wished he were there, with them. He wanted to know how Spock's family was doing, if Spock's father had any messages. He wanted to hear what Spock's problems were, and what McCoy's suggestions were to solve them. It was more than just being nosy. He wanted to know all about Spock.

Soon enough, it was Jim's turn to talk to the doctor. They sat on the porch, drinking a soda, McCoy trying to fill Jim in on things going on with the ship, with Starfleet and the war against the Romulans. “Repairs are done, but they're waiting a couple days to get it moving again. Science team been working twenty-four, seven to get you guys fixed. They're hoping to have something for us before the ship heads out.” The doctor took another long drink. “No one wants to replace you, you know. Crew all very vocal about that, they want you and Spock back if possible.”

Jim tried to look interested, and there was some part of him that was touched that Captain Kirk, whoever the fuck that was, had crew that dedicated to him. But in truth, Jim found it hard to give a shit about any of this. He wanted to be a grown-up again, yeah, and when that happened, he'd get back to work. Right now... it was like listening to someone talk about a complete stranger.

Jim tried explaining that later, after they'd finished dinner, and Jim and McCoy were sharing a plate of some warm cookies. “What I don't get is how I go from this,” he points to himself, “to some 'sunshine out of his ass' captain hero bullshit. What happens to me when I'm twenty-two to make me give a shit about the Federation?” Jim asked.

“That would probably be my fault,” said a voice from the hallway. Jim and McCoy both looked up to see an older man, gray at the temples, standing there leaning against a cane. “Christopher Pike,” he said, reaching his hand out toward Jim. “You're a mite younger than I've ever seen you, Jim.” He looked over at McCoy, nodded at him. “Hello, Leonard.”

McCoy nodded back. “This is Admiral Pike,” McCoy told them, pulling out a chair for the older man. “He's'-”

“I remember who he is. I mean, I read all about it.” Jim looked down at Pike's legs. “You can walk now?”

“With some help,” replied Pike, looking at his cane. “Having the best doctor in the galaxy treating me doesn't hurt,” Pike added, “but you knew that Jim. Kept him on board with you away from the rest of us.” He looked around. “Where is Spock?”

“Reading upstairs,” Jim answered. “It's all he does.”

Pike frowned. “That doesn't sound like much fun. C'mon,” he said, reaching for his cane. “Let's go hit that carnival I saw on the way in.”

Jim laughed, McCoy rolled his eyes, and Spock, who had emerged from his room at the sound of the voices downstairs, merely arched his eyebrow. “What is a carnival?”

And so an hour later the four of them, along with some surreptitious security, were milling around the Riverside fairgrounds. It was all lights and noise, a fine dust kicked up with every step. Children laughing, teens moving in packs, older couples walking hand in hand. Jim was sort of pleased to see this much hadn't changed.

Pike pulled out his wallet and bought passes for all of them. Twenty minutes later, Jim was instantly studying Spock and his reaction to this uniquely human experience – the local carnival. “You guys wanna get on a ride?” he heard Pike ask, McCoy chuckling behind him.

Jim looked around at boring rides Pike was pointing at. “Nah, I'm good,” he drawled, kicking at the ground with one foot.

Pike eyeballed Jim, then shook his head. “These kids are no fun, Leonard. C'mon, let's get on one of these contraptions.”

McCoy argued a bit, but to no avail, and soon he and Pike were queued up in line for a ride. Jim walked over to the nearest concession stand, bought himself a bag of popcorn. When he got back, he looked up and saw Pike and McCoy on a Ferris wheel, stuck up at the top, faces close as they were talking. Jim nudged Spock on the shoulder. “Let's go.”

“Admiral Pike said to wait here-”

“Yes, and I am going to 'wait here' over there,” Jim replied, chewing slowly on his popcorn as he took three steps before he realized Spock wasn't following. “I'll buy you some cotton candy,” he sighed, wondering if Jim the Captain had to bribe Spock the First Officer like this to get anything done.

But Spock the teenager seemed interested enough in the sugar, and followed Jim to the food booths. From there, they found some more extreme rides, Jim managing to cajole Spock into one or two. The giant spinning wheel was Jim's favorite, screaming loud as the g-forces kept them pulled back against the walls of the wheel. “Damn, that was great!” he called out to no one in particular as they exited the ride. “You like those?” he asked Spock.

The Vulcan shrugged. “It was a centrifuge.”

“But we were _inside_ it that centrifuge.”

Spock remained nonplussed. “I still do not see the point.”

Well hell. “What sort of things do you do for fun?” he asked, walking backwards so he could talk to Spock, who was walking slower, more carefully in the crowds.

But before he could head Spock's answer, Jim felt himself walk backwards right into someone. “Shit, I'm sorry-” he began as he turned, then a smile opened wide on his face. The girl he'd stepped on was particularly beautiful, from the top of her perfectly curled red hair to the tips of her stylish boots. “My fault, I'm an idiot. Name's Jim. And you are?” he asked, leaning forward, eyes dancing.

“None of your damned business. She's with me,” a voice from behind her called out.

“Vince, leave him alone,” the girl said, giving the hulking boy a push as their little group walked by Jim and Spock “It was an accident,” she added, her eyes warm and flirty as Jim, giving him a little smile.

“Yeah, Vince,” Jim drawled, feeling like himself again. “Why don't you let me make it up to her by getting her a soda,” he flashed her his best smile, “and we'll let you know when we're done.”

“Asshole,” Vince muttered. “Get over here and let me show you-”

One of Vince's friends, another hulk, grabbed Jim's arms. Just as Jim saw a fist heading toward his face, it was stopped by hand, inches from his nose. Spock's hand. Spock pushed Vince backward, and they both watched as the hulking boy fell hard to the ground.

After that, it was difficult to tell what happened. Punches were thrown, Jim feeling one connect with his jaw but it didn't hurt. If anything, it was exhilarating, feeling the adrenaline coursing through him as he landed two good punches to someone's stomach. Spock had another one laying flat on the ground and was looking to help Jim when they heard others coming, fairground security.

Reaching for Spock's hand, Jim grabbed him and pulled, stumbling across the boys laying on the dirt and didn't stop until they were clear of the gathering crowd, rounding the corner behind a fun-house. “Fuck,” Jim breathed out, laughing. “Damn, that was fun.”

Spock was brushing the dust off of his clothes, glaring at Jim. “Don't shit me,” Jim said, giving him a nudge as they walked in the other direction. “You thought that was fun.”

“It was memorable,” Spock replied.

“You were good, too. How come you never told me you could do that-” Jim made a martial arts motion with his arms.

Spock looked a little smug. “It is not my first fight,” he admitted, straightening his shirt. “And I am well-versed in several varieties of self-defense. I, however,” he continued, a hint of amusement in his voice, “am not a delinquent who enjoys starting altercations.”

“You wish you were a delinquent,” Jim chuckled. “Besides, I read about the way you made it to Starfleet, giving the Vulcan Science Academy the middle finger.” Jim leaned against him, whispered in his ear. “You practically told them to fuck themselves.”

“I did no such thing,” Spock told him with mock seriousness.

“You like being bad sometimes,” Jim replied. But before Spock could refute that, Pike and McCoy came into view. Jim could see that they were holding hands as they walked, and they looked so comfortable around each other, Jim hated to disturb them, but he knew they needed to get out of this place before that group of guys found them again. “Over here,” he called out.

One last snack, and the four of them all left the grounds for the evening.

 

It took a long time for Jim to fall asleep that night. The adrenaline from the fight, the sugar from all the sweets, and way he and Spock had worked together to kick those guys in the ass... Jim would have never guessed the quiet boy had that kind of fight in him. Spock had been phenomenal, moving so gracefully, smooth, the sort of fighter that had practiced his whole life.

Lots of questions Jim had... but Spock had gone straight up to his room and closed the door. Jim hadn't seen Admiral Pike leave, so he guessed that he stayed over too, probably in McCoy's room. He wondered briefly what was going on there. They liked each other, that was obvious, but Jim hadn't seen anything between them, except that private hand-holding at the fair.

They weren't bad-looking guys, Jim thought, yawning as his hand scratched his stomach. McCoy was a growly son of a bitch, but he had a sinful mouth, those full, bitten lips. A flash through Jim's head, wondering what that mouth was doing right now to Pike. Those full lips, they'd be kissing the older guy's neck, or his chest, or maybe something lower. Sliding his hand down, Jim stroked his shaft slowly. Maybe Pike would use some of that natural authority of his, use that low, gravelly voice to order McCoy to suck him off or pound his ass into the mattress.

 _Fuck_... Jim's back arched as he stroked harder now, his thumb rubbing slick over the head of his cock. Then he heard his name whispered in his own head, another cool voice. _Jim..._ Dark eyes, looking at him with curiosity, hunger, need. What would it feel like, Spock's long fingers touching him, stroking him. Those soft lips on him, Jim's hand guiding his head, touching one of those pointed ears as he thrust into that mouth-

Jim groaned as he came, feeling confused and horny and tired. Didn't matter that Spock hadn't ever given any indication of wanting him. Watching him that night, moving like a cat, fighting at Jim's side – something in Jim's head changed, and he was pretty sure he'd never look at the Vulcan the same way again.

McCoy and Pike left the next morning, and Winona had errands to run so it was just Jim and Spock alone at the house. They hadn't spoken of the fight the night before, but the silence wasn't uncomfortable. It was never uncomfortable between them, Jim had noticed, and when he decided how he wanted to spend this afternoon, he went and roused Spock from his reading. “Wanna see my father?”

Spock stared at him quizzically, but didn't answer, merely placed a marker in his book (the idea of bound books being something Spock seemed to enjoy) and followed Jim out of the house.

  


The two of them cut across the field and headed toward the main road that led to Jim's old high school. They walked together down that familiar road, yet all Jim could see were the differences. There were changes, new houses where there hadn't been before, strange models of cars, more road paved than he recalled. Eventually they turned toward the school, and as they approached, Jim could see that it had been painted, the roof was a different color that he remembered.

But that wasn't the biggest change. **James T Kirk High School** , large bronze lettering above the entrance. “What the fuck...”

Spock stopped behind him. “I assume you did not expect that?”

“No,” Jim muttered under his breath. “I did not. Used to be good old Riverside High.” Jim stared at that sign for a long time. This was wrong. All that had happened to him in the last few weeks had been unsettling, but _this_ rattled him to the bone. “C'mon,” he said, determined now to get in and make sure that his dad was still in there somewhere.

It was a Saturday, and luckily there weren't any cars in the parking lot. Jim and Spock jumped the fence to get inside the grounds, and Jim found a slightly opened window, working at it until it was wide enough for them to slide in.

They made it through the classroom, their footsteps echoing loudly down the hallways as they ran toward the back of the school, where the awards and glass cases were mounted to the walls. There had been an entire case dedicated to his dad, a plaque detailing the events of 2233, when Captain Kirk had saved the lives of his entire ship, including his wife and baby son, along with dozens of photographs donated by the family.

When Jim went to school there, he'd walk past it as fast as he could, not wanting people to see him staring longingly at his father's face, blond and blue-eyed and confident, grinning back at him. But right now, he needed to see that, to know that much hadn't changed. His dad, he'd been the hero, not Jim.

Turning the corner, Jim sighed. It was still there, the photograph of George Kirk looking older, faded compared to the newer, fresher faces peering out from adjoining glass cases. “He's over here,” Jim called out to Spock.

But Spock was looking outside at something else. Jim walked up to him, not seeing the statue in the middle of the courtyard until he was at the window. He felt his face freeze in disbelief.

Pushing the door open, they stepped out into the courtyard and headed toward a huge bronze statue, eight feet tall on a pedestal.

 _James Tiberius Kirk, hero of the Second Battle of the _Narada_ , 2255._ There was more written at the bottom, but Jim didn't want to read it.

“It is you,” he heard Spock say.

“It's not me,”Jim answered quietly. “I don't care what it says, that is not me.” One more look up at that smiling, confident face, vacant eyes permanently staring up at the empty sky. “Let's get out of here.”

Jim walked quickly out of the courtyard, heading toward the stadium and track in the back. “Jim,” Spock called out, reaching for Jim's arm. “Tell me, what is concerning you?”

“This is all fucked up.” Jim dropped his head, closing his eyes. “This is _wrong_ , I'm just a fuck-up.” He kicked the side of the building. “Fuck, I didn’t even graduate, Spock. Dropped out last year.” All of a sudden Jim felt embarrassed by that. That guy, the one in that statue. He didn't look like a fuck-up. He looked like a goddamn hero.

And Jim felt like a fraud. “According to the plaque over there,” Spock pointed in the direction of the statue, “you received an honorary diploma in 2259.” Jim just stared at him, but Spock continued. “May I ask you a personal question?”

Jim nodded, bracing himself for something about his dad, but instead he heard, “Why do you feel the need to propagate this facade that you are, as the locals would say, 'an ignorant townie'?” For some reason, Jim laughed at that, Spock using those words. “I do not see why it amuses you, to be insulted like this.”

“I don't think its an insult to not be smart. I didn't do anything to get this,” he pointed at his brain, “I was just born. I think people being a jerk about how smart they are, making more of themselves, that's a lot more of a douche-bag move than just being real.”

“One might say you are hiding yourself.”

“Don't like people expecting a lot out of me. As soon as you show them what you can do, all they want is more and more.” Jim shoved his hands in his pockets. “Don't like that sort of responsibility.”

Spock took a few steps ahead of Jim. “Says the captain of the Federation Flagship.”

Jim turned, narrowing his eyes. “I don't know who that guy is. You asked about 'me'. This,” Jim pointed at himself, “is me.” Then he continued walking. “What about you?”

“Excuse me?” Spock asked,

“How did you end up in Starfleet?” Jim asked. “You act like you are so ready to go to Vulcan Science Academy.” Both of them had read the official accounts of their lives, but there was so little about the real reason for their decisions. One day, Jim Kirk boarded a cadet shuttle bound for San Francisco. One afternoon, Spock declined membership into the Vulcan Science Academy to go to Starfleet.

But _why?_

Spock hesitated. “That decision is as difficult for me to ascertain as yours is for enlisting.”

“Bullshit,” Jim stopped him. Spending this much time around Spock had taught Jim that the Vulcan watched everything, calculated everything, had a theory about everything. “Tell me, why do you _think_ you did that?”

Spock tried to ignore him, but Jim didn't let up. “I can only speculate,” he began.

“Then speculate.”

Spock's hands locked behind his back, as he looked back at the statue of Jim in the courtyard. “There have been times I have felt like... an outsider among my people.” Then he turned and began walking, and it was Jim's turn to catch up to Spock.

“What do you mean, an outsider?” Jim felt like that everyday of his life, he knew that feeling inherently, and Spock didn't act like someone who was isolated by others.

“I am not one of _them_ ,” Spock told him, a slight inflection on the last word, his face showing a hint of disdain before logic returned and clamped it back into its stoic place. “My mother, she was human. Some Vulcans had... an issue with that.”

Jim chuckled bitterly as they made it to the football field. “A pair of fuck-ups, I guess,” he said, tossing his arm around Spock's shoulder without thinking.

“Apparently,” Spock replied with a little sigh, not pulling away, and surprising Jim with his humor.

They passed the sports fields, and headed back toward the street, when all of a sudden - “It's those guys, get 'em!”

Fuck – Jim turned to see Vince the hulk and several of his friends coming toward them. Jim counted five. _Shit_. “What do you think?” he asked, getting closer to Spock.

“We are outnumbered,” Spock answered, his stance falling into one of self-defense. “I believe our best option in this case is to retreat.”

“Agreed,” Jim told him. “Go!” They turned and ran, past the parking lots and stadium, easily outpacing the group chasing them. Jim saw the angry boys heading for their truck, so he grabbed Spock and headed across the tall grass behind the school. Ducking into a field, they kept their heads down, watching as the guys drove past them on the road.

A few minutes later, they made it to the Kirk place, not stopping until they hit the barn and closed the door behind them, Jim's heart still racing. Fuck, why did this feel so good? Jim had been so angry and upset at seeing himself being honored like that, the goddamn school named after him. But the chase, the fight... it seemed to rejuvenate him. He felt alive in a way he hadn't since the fight at the carnival.

Spock had a glow too, his eyes alive, his lips slightly parted as he panted.... Seemed perfectly natural for Jim to pull Spock close, kissing him deep. Spock stilled, froze for a moment and Jim thought _fuck_ he'd screwed it up but then Spock kissed him back, turned and pinned him against the barn wall.

 _Yessss._ Jim's arms reached around Spock, pulling him closer, feeling a hard erection against his hip. Fingers pulled Spock's ass against him, hearing a soft huff come from the Vulcan. “Tell me you like that,” he murmured.

But Spock didn't use any words. His hand slid under Jim's shirt, skimming the surface of his torso. “You are aroused.”

“Fuck yeah, I'm aroused.” Jim took Spock's hand and pushed it lower on to his cock. He ground into Spock's hand, hearing another catch of the Vulcan's breath. “Touch it.”

Spock's hand plucked at Jim's jeans, unfastening them and slipping inside. Jim's head pressed against Spock's shoulder as he felt that hand grip him, and he thrust up into it with a groan, long fingers stroking him until he shuddered against Spock's body. Spock held him up with a grip that should have hurt, but right now, Jim wasn't feeling anything but good endorphins racing though his body.

But soon they slid to the ground, Jim slightly amused as he offered to let Spock clean his hand on his t-shirt. All of a sudden, the cool, collected Vulcan was back, not a hair out of place, despite having just jacked Jim off in the barn, still sporting an impressive erection of his own. Spock was running a finger up and down Jim's index finger, down the webbing and up the thumb, then back down again. “What're you doing?” Jim asked lazily, watching their fingers.

“This is what we do.” Jim watched another minute, then flipped his hand over so he could rub two fingers up and down Spock's hand, fingers to palm and back up to fingers. Spock closed his eyes, leaned back and made this guttural sound that was the best noise Jim ever heard. Wanting more of that noise, he lifted Spock's hand to his mouth and experimentally licked his palm.

Spock seemed to really enjoy it, so Jim pushed further, and began undoing Spock's pants. When Spock didn't stop him, Jim reached in and wrapped his hand around Spock's cock, pulling it out of Spock's pants. Dropping his face to it, he heard Spock murmur his name, the tremor in his voice betraying real emotion and that, more than anything, was why Jim closed his eyes and took Spock's cock into his mouth.

He felt fingers tighten in his hair, fuck, it hurt but it was sexy, Spock 's breathing getting harder and deeper. Spock's hips thrust up, his feet trying to find something to push against as he canted up and into Jim's mouth. Then he made out some sound in Vulcan as he came, Spock's body stiffening as Jim swallowed it all down. He rested his head against Spock's thigh, that hand warm on the back of his neck.

Right now, Jim felt complete.

 

They spent the rest of the day on their own, Spock retreating to his room to read, Jim messing with his motorcycle pieces. He had hoped that maybe Spock would come downstairs, join him, but that hadn't happened yet, and it only added to Jim's state of confusion. He hadn't expected anything to change, really, and he knew Spock was Vulcan, they just didn't show emotions like humans did.

But if Jim were honest with himself, he hoped for a little less aloofness on Spock's part, some sign that what they had done had meant something to the other boy.

McCoy arrived in time for dinner, as he always did, and Jim wondered if he did that on purpose. “How ya doin'?” he asked, watching as Jim began putting up the pieces of his cycle. “Looks like you've made some progress.”

“Yeah,” Jim told him, a look of pride on his face. “Almost there.” He was surprised to hear the door open and close behind him, watching Spock step out onto the porch.

“Doctor McCoy.”

“Spock,” McCoy replied. “I've got a message from your father.”

Spock looked pleased at that announcement, giving McCoy a little smile, and Jim watched as Spock followed McCoy inside. His stomach felt all tight, a feeling Jim recognized as jealously, though it made no sense. But then again, feelings and emotions made no sense. Maybe Spock and his people had it right all along.

Shit like this was why Jim didn't get close to people.

“Hey you.”

Jim looked off to the side, cocking his head enough to see his mother standing there. “Hi,” he murmured, watching her warily.

She gave him a quizzical look back as she sat down next to him on the porch. “You okay?”

Jim shrugged. 'Okay' was so relative now. Was he okay being so young? Was he okay being in Iowa? Was he okay with Spock?

But she wasn't going to let it go. “I know this is rough for you. I remember when you were this age, things were still rough between us. Even when I was here, I really wasn't here.” Jim didn't say anything, just picked at some dirt on his shoes, so she continued. “You told me once that what pissed you off the most was that you thought I believed him, and not you.”

Jim's eyes narrowed. Frank wasn't a topic that he ever wanted to bring up again.

“I always believed you, Jimmy, and Sammy, too. Its just -” she sighed, resting her hand in his hair, a feeling he loved more than he wanted to admit.

“He hit us.”

Her hand paused, then kept on petting him. “I know that now. I didn't then. You said you hated him, and I thought... I don't know.” Winona paused again, both of them lost in their thoughts. “When I found out, I told him to go. Then you went to Tarsus, thought that would be good for you.” Jim didn't look at her, couldn't. “And after you came back, you were so quiet. Thought you just needed some space.”

“You needed the space,” he told her, turning to look at her. “You left again,” he added, hoping that feeling of hurt didn't show in his eyes.

She was quiet. “Yeah, I needed the space too.” Jim wasn't sure what had hurt more... dealing with the tragedy of Tarsus, or watching his mom leave again a few months later.

“When did you come back here?” Jim asked her, curious.

“Right after the _Narada_ ,” she answered quietly. “After what happened there, to you, with Nero... I was done with Starfleet. I asked you to stay here with me, and you laughed. Told me that it was your turn, that you were going back up there to take care of all of us.”

“When did we -”

“When were things better with you and me?” Winona snorted a little, leaning back on one hand. “When I found out that you enlisted, we got into a screaming match on the view screen. Not my proudest moment, as a mother,” she admitted. “I ordered you to get your ass back to Iowa, and you told me to go to hell.”

That surprised him, in a way. Then again, it didn't. “Thought you would have been happy I did something productive with my life, stopped screwing around down here.”

“But Starfleet, Jimmy? After what happened to your dad.... no,” she rubbed his back. “I didn't want that for you.”

They were silent for a while. “How is Sam?”

“He's good,” she said, her face filling with pride. “He's got a wife who hates me, and a couple of gorgeous children. They live over on one of the colonies. You two got together a couple years ago, spent some time with each other. I think you mended things, too.”

Jim grunted, a little smile thinking that they had fixed their problems, too. Sam had managed to get as far as he could from here, just like he'd always said. And Jim had joined fucking Starfleet. What the hell...

Winona leaned in closer, and when it appeared Jim wasn't going to move out of her reach, she gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I love you, Jim. Always did, always will. You could have been anything you wanted, and I would have been your proud mother.” She paused again, taking his arm. “I just didn’t know how to show it when you were young, when it counted. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I was wrong. I'm just glad you forgave me and things got better.”

Jim didn't want to admit it, but the kiss meant more to him than the words. “What changed my mind?”

She nodded over to where McCoy and Spock were sitting inside. “He's got a little daughter back home. A girl he loves more than anything, but he can't be with her. You told me once that seeing that, seeing him miss her and love her from afar made it easier for you to understand why I made my choices.”

Jim's brows furrowed. McCoy had a kid? “He didn't mention it to me.”

“Well, he wouldn’t, would he?” she murmured as the doctor and Spock approached. “You guys ready for dinner?”

But no sooner than McCoy opened his mouth to answer than his communicator beeped. Glancing down at the message, he passed it to Winona, then turned to the boys. “Its Admiral Pike. They think they've got a way to fix you.”

 

It was late enough in the day that everyone agreed to wait until tomorrow to head out to San Francisco. Pike arranged for a shuttle to transport them all to California in the morning, so they ate dinner that night, not much chatter going on, other than McCoy going on about how the ship was nearly ready, answering Winona's questions about the war. Winona seemed worried, but McCoy explained a little of the science behind the procedure. Jim wanted to listen to him, knew this was important stuff, but his attention was drawn to the other boy at the table.

Spock hadn't said anything, almost like it had been between them all when they'd first arrived. Jim didn't understand why things seemed to have moved backward. Maybe it had been a mistake, touching him. Trying to get close.

Well, soon enough they'd be grown again, and not have to deal with each other like this. From the way McCoy was talking, by this time tomorrow, everything would be back to normal, and they'd be back in space.

 

But that night, Jim couldn't sleep.

Laying in bed that night, he looked out his window at the moon, and for a moment Jim imagined he could see the colonies, the cities that dotted the landscape. McCoy's words echoed in his ears. The war. Romulans. Admirals deciding his fate, the fate of his ship in endless meetings. More assholes who thought they knew more about him than he did.

Why would he want to do this again?

Without thinking, Jim put on his clothes, snuck into Spock's room, and made his way down the roof and across the field before he stopped and wondered what he was doing.

Eventually Jim headed back toward the house, trying to decide what to do next when he saw a figure standing in the moonlight waiting for him. As Jim approached, he watched Spock walk toward the barn, so he followed him inside. Neither one said anything for a while, though Jim nestled close to the other boy, took his hand in his own as they sat down, backs against the wall.

A moment later he felt Spock shiver. “You're cold,” he said, wrapping his arm around Spock's shoulder and pulling him closer, realizing that Spock's thin sweater would not be enough to keep him warm in the cool evening air.

“I am sufficiently covered,” Spock told him, lacing their fingers together, brushing the pads of their thumbs against each other. “I do not yet wish to move,” he murmured. “That will come soon enough.”

Jim watched that small movement, mesmerized. “Why not stay like this?” he asked, sounding petulant even to himself. Sounded fucking crazy, all he'd ever wanted to do was leave this damn town, and now... he didn't want to go, not just yet.

Spock rested his head against Jim's shoulder. “Would you let that happen?” he asked quietly, tilting his head and giving Jim a knowing look. “Full in the knowledge that you could stop this war, and keep your people from dying? The needs of the many, Jim...” Spock began, rubbing at the webbing between Jim's index finger and thumb with his own. “But you will not be alone. That, I can assure you.”

There was a quiet confidence in that statement that made Jim's stomach do a slow flip. “When we're older... I don't want to lose this.” Jim pressed his head against Spock's temple. “Fuck, I don't want to sound like a girl, and hell, I don't even know if there is something to lose, but – I like you. I think you like me, against your better judgment.”

Spock took a deep breath, let it out slow. “We will have to trust that the more mature versions of ourselves will have the sense to get past their animosity. It is well documented that we work well together. Perhaps...” he gave one of those elusive smiles, “perhaps a nudge was required to move us in a new direction.” He touched Jim's finger with his own, slow skim down and up again. “This direction.”

“And maybe this,” Jim murmured, turning and covering Spock with his body. His hand found its way inside Spock's pants, wrapping and curling around that hardening length, hearing Spock murmured something low in Vulcan. He felt Spock's fingers tighten around his own cock, and he groaned quietly against Spock's neck as they moved and shifted against each other.

If anyone noticed that they both emerged from Spock's room the next morning, no one said anything. The shuttle ride was quiet, McCoy, Winona, and the boys strapped into their seats, looking at each other, but each kept mostly to their own thoughts.

The shuttle stopped in San Francisco just long enough to pick up one passenger. Pike settled into his seat next to McCoy, then the small craft lifted and took them all the way up to space dock. Once they landed, Jim looked around, following McCoy. He glanced over at Spock, then at the security that managed to surround them as they made their way onto the ship, eventually stopping at the Engineering room of the _Enterprise_.

Mr Scott greeted them all, then tried to explain the process. Sounded easy enough, hop on the transporter pad, shoot a beam that would accelerate mitosis to a specific point in time. He could hear McCoy going over everything with the technicians, sounding even more worried than normal. “I'm going first.”

“Jim,” Spock put his hand on his shoulder, warming him with that touch. “If I am indeed your first officer, that duty falls to me. Ensure it is safe for the captain.”

“No,” Jim shook his head, feeling full of a strange lightness, as if Spock had shared that cool confidence with him. “I'm the captain, and this is my call.” Their eyes met, a silent sort of conversation that Jim felt inside. In the end, Spock acquiesced, and Jim stepped onto the pad, closing his eyes as the beam of light hit him.

In a moment it was over. Jim looked down at his hands, a little bigger, a jagged scar on his finger from that bar fight in Des Moines on his twenty-first birthday. “Did it work?” he asked, his voice rough and low.

The look of relief on Bones' face said it all. “What do you remember?” he asked.

Jim rubbed his temples as he stepped off the platform. The cornfield. The carnival. The statue of himself in his old school. “…All of it,” he answered quietly, almost not noticing Spock being led to the transporter pad.

Then he looked up as Spock was being hit with the beam, and everything else filled in. The battle. The beam of red light. Patelok. “I'm heading to the bridge,” he told them, thanking an ensign that had handed him a better fitting uniform, changing right there in front of everyone. “What's going on?” he asked the nearest Security officer, ignoring Bones' protestations about Sickbay and being an idiot.

“They believe you are dead,” Lt Maans told him, handing Jim a datapadd with logistical information on Patelok's location. Too close to Earth. “Or incapacitated. Reports that you have not been on board have been leaked throughout the fleet.”

“That might work to our advantage.” Jim turned to see Spock standing behind him, back to everyone as he changed, tugging at his own uniform shirt..

“First, we need to get away from this system. Lead them on a bit of a merry chase then drop on top of them.” He looked over at Spock. “Around the fields and past the barn,” he chuckled low. “You okay?”

“I am ready, Captain,” Spock answered, a hint of something new in his eyes. Jim wanted to ask him more, but now was not the time. First, he had to take care of his guests.

Walking over to Winona, Jim put his arms around her. “I was an asshole,” he murmured in her ear. “Again.” Hugging her tight, he whispered, “Thank you for everything. We gotta go,” he told her, not wanting her to go, but not wanting her on board if they were going into battle. “But I'm gonna be back soon, and we can have a real visit then, okay?”

It looked like Bones and Pike wanted to say more to each other as well, but there were too many damn people around. “Admiral, would you see my mother back to space dock?” he asked, tossing Bones an apologetic look.

“Will do, Jim,” Pike said, another quick glance at Bones. _Wow_ , Jim thought to himself. He'd have to ask how long that had been going on behind his back, but another time.

“I'll contact you as soon as we're done,” Jim told both of them. “With any luck, we'll finish this today.” Jim turned and headed to the bridge. “Transporter room, let me know the moment the admiral and my mother have left the ship,” he said into his communicator as he walked, feeling Spock enter the turbo lift right behind him. “You okay?” he asked again.

Spock merely glanced down at his datapadd, as if absorbing all the information he missed during their time away from the ship. After a moment, he gave Jim a side glance. “Yes, Captain.”

That was all Spock said, nothing more given away in word or glance... but something had changed. Jim felt it, knowing now what was going on in that head of Spock's. His lack of words didn't mean anything more than he trusted in what Jim was doing.

His silence spoke of a commitment, rather than a lack of interest.

Jim pressed the side panel, stopping the turbo lift. No more questions, no uncertainly. That was for seventeen year old kids, unsure, untried. He was a man now, a captain, and no matters of the heart were ever going to scare him again.

One hand reached for Spock's, lacing their fingers together. “First, we're gonna go out there and kick Patelok's ass. Then we're gonna find some free time for Bones and Pike, because that is cute as shit, the two of them together. And then,” his free hand curved around the back of Spock's neck. He pulled Spock's face close to his own, “then we are gonna go to my room, and talk,” he murmured, brushing their lips together.

“And if I have nothing to say, Captain?” Spock breathed quietly back, his eyes fluttering closed.

“I'll think of something else,” Jim said, diving in for one more deep kiss as his hand hit the button to start the lift. When it opened, the two of them entered the bridge, Jim feeling everything all at once – pride at his crew, ready and waiting for him, excitement at the idea of getting out there and battling the Romulan, and most of all desire, need, hunger for his First Officer, seeing that cool expression on Spock's face and knowing he was thinking the same thing.

“Let's go.”

05.22.2011


End file.
